I had to be out for a coach to take me to the marina at 8.15. I made it by 8, which gave me time to puzzle over the roadside public phone with no mechanism for taking cash or cards (it seems TelecomFiji operates only through pre-paide cards) and to have a local try to schmooze FJ$5 out of me “for two beers.” (This at 8 in the morning, remember.)
Soon enough the bus came and we were rolling to the marina, where I grabbed my vouchers (in the name of “TERKINS J MR”) and boarded the catamaran ferry to the islands. The ferry was a bit delayed, so I had time to grab a little snack:
Yes, that is named “Golden Gaytime,” which I’ve since learned is also available in Australia. Too amusing not to buy, and while I’m still not sure what’s in it, it was actually yummy.
That, as well as conversation with Ninca, the Dutch drug abuse counselor who said she loved taking drugs herself, amused me until I had to transfer to a launch for my first island, at a place that was billed as “Eco” — which means roughing it. Who cares when the water is so clear you can see the coral from the beach:
And after all, at least my bed had a mosquito net:
No, I didn’t wake up in the night and get caught in it.